Chapter 3- The Initiation
I took William's advice, and stayed in bed for another day. I did not want to keep Wallace's men any longer though, so I tried to walk around a bit. When my head started to not hurt, it was then that I decided that I was better. I hadn't ventured outside the tent, so I thought a little stroll would do me some good. Plus, maybe I could find that English bastard if the men hadn't already killed him.
As I exited the tent, I saw for the first time what my world would be like for the years. I observed men practicing sword fights; men eating pots of stew; men drawing there bows and firing arrows to circled targets. All of it fascinated me to no end. As I searched the camp I noticed a tent where two guards stood with weapons. I knew it was the son of a bitch that lied within.
I approached the two young guards, and smiled sweetly. One, a boy around 18 years old, smiled back, while the older one looked away in disgust. I knew probably two thirds of the total men thought I wasn't fit to be there, but I would prove them wrong. The man that had smiled, the one with stunning brown eyes and ruffled brown hair, spoke to me, "Well, are you just going to stand there girly, or do you have a point to make?"
A bit rude. "I demand to enter this tent, providing it is the one that contains the English soldier," I shot back at him.
He looked taken aback, while the older one still looked away. "Well, with an attitude like that, I guess next you'll be wanting me to feed and clothe ye." I did not like being mocked, and the look I must have given him told him my thoughts. For next, he said, "Wallace says no one's to see him. Not until he decides the bastard's fate."
I rolled my eyes. "I just want to see him for a second. I won't DO anything to him," I lied. I had no intention of just 'seeing' this scoundrel. I would rather cut his throat.
"Talk to Wallace, Maura. I follow my orders."
"How do you know my name?" I enquired.
It was his turn to roll his eyes. "Don't be daft, girl. You expect a woman to come into our little group without being talked about? They're already making up stories about ye, bout how your only here cause Wallace has a soft spot, and as soon as a battle comes, you'll tuck your tail between your legs and go home. That's my understanding."
I was angered by his amusing gaze at me, and even more so by what the men thought of me. I would show them all though. I wasn't a quitter. "And do You believe that, after having talked to me?" I asked in a mocking tone.
"I don't know, lass. I'd have to see you battle someone first," he countered.
"Is that an invitation?"
He was surprised by that, and stuttered, "Oh, no, I didn't mean-"
I cut him off. "You wish to fight me and see what I've got. Alright then, if your so keen to do then bring it on, boy." Now he was totally in bewilderment, and I knew I had caught him. He would back down any second, and I would win-
"Alright." Now it was my turn to be taken by surprise. He wasn't the least bit worried. "I challenge you, Maura McColliny, to a battle of wits and strength."
"I accept. Since you already know your opponent's name, I think its my right to learn yours."
"Oh, do you now? Jeremy Bloom, if you must know. When do you intend to have this match? Maybe in a few days, since your injured," he said the word 'injured' as if he didn't believe I was. He was the most arrogant man I met, and I would show him what I was made of.
"Why a few days, when we could do this right now?" I stared him down, and he did the same.
"Fine, I have the time. Douglas, can you man down the fort while I handle this?" He said to the other guard. The man simply nodded. "Alrighty then. Let's see what you've got."
He lead me to where most of the men were practicing with their swords. He went into the center and shouted, "Scottish bitches of Wallace," a laughter rang through the crowd. "I ask your permission to use the ring, since a challenge has been brought to our newest member, Maura McColliny, against me." A bigger laugh followed, with shouts of joy. They were all scoffing at me, but I paid them no mind.
By now an even bigger crowd had arisen, and I begin to sweat with nervousness. What if I lost? I would be the laughing stock of the whole camp, and shamed. Then there was just one alternative: don't lose. I closed my eyes and let out a big breath. I had to concentrate, and get distractions out of my mind.
Someone handed me a sword, and I took it without a thanks. I swung it left and right, twisting my wrist to get a feel for the weight. Once I had it down, and Jeremy was done practicing, we headed towards the middle of the dirt ring. The crowd around us made a circly, and I felt rapped. There was no backing out now.
"Sure your ready for this, lass?" He asked.
"Give me all you got!" I shouted. He grinned, then advanced upon me. He was fast, I had to give him credit there. His blows were low and I had to jump high to avoid my legs being chopped off. I then countered with a straightforward jerk, meant for the shoulder, but he deflected it. I didn't know how to fight when I didn't want to hurt the guy, and it was hard to concentrate on the right places to hit him. It left me slower, and made me defend myself instead of advancing.
This guy was good, much better than most men I knew. I discovered then that I had played into his hands: he had challenged me to something he was extremely good at, and knew I would lose. That made me feel like an idiot, and I lost the aspiration to hit him where it wouldn't hurt him bad; I went at him full force.
He was caught unaware by my sudden outburst, and that gave me the advantage. I swung for the chest, but he did a back flip and landed on his feet, just in time to deflect another of my attacks. This could go on forever. We flew into a rhythm; he advanced, I repelled a blow; I advanced, he flicked it away. Every move I made he matched it, and form all the twisting and twirling we did one could take it as seeing a dance. The shouts of the men had faded after twenty or so minutes, and some had left. Others were awed by our intensity; our unwillingness to call it quits.
Sweat was pouring down my face, and blood dripped from my shoulder, where he had lightly scraped. I had gotten him along the side of his ribs, but I knew it barely touched the skin, though I had seen the cringe his face made when I made the slice. He backed out of the middle and stopped for a second, though he still had his sword raised. I knew he was tired, but he knew I was tired also. I didn't know how long I could play this game, and my head was throbbing fiercely.
With a burst of energy I advanced on him, my voice crying out. My sword hit his, and our chests were almost pressed together. I saw a hint of a smile in his voice, then all of a sudden I felt him try to push me out of his hold. I almost lost my balance, but I kept it together. We were both out of breath, but that didn't stop us. He was almost as stubborn as me. Almost. I lashed out again, this time for his legs, and he jumped and did a front lip over my head, I turned around just in time to batter his sword away from my stomach.
But his next move determined the end of the match. He made a high blow, and I blocked it, then faked a low blow, which I tried to block, and shot my sword out of my hand, and kicked me to the ground. I knew defeat when I saw it, though I was maddened beyond power that he had humiliated me. He sighed in triumph as he let his hand holding the sword fall to the ground. Cheers went up, as I tried to fend off tears that slowly crept their way to my eyes. He smiled warmly at me, and offered his hand to help me up. I denied it, and and did a kip up to land on my feet.
I thought that match had clenched my status as an outcast, but once again I was proved wrong as scores of people came up and congratulated me on a well fought match. I was utterly confused, though I thanked everyone that came up to me. Finally Jeremy reached me and held out his hand again. This time I clasped it, and he shook it fiercely with a sense of admiration in me.
"You fought well. I honestly didn't know you could take that much punishment, but you never quit. Your as brave a fighter as any man here, and as skilled. I owe you an apology for judging you too quickly, lass."
I decided this would be the best time to ask, "Why are you apologizing? I lost. Your men should be laughing at me from here to England."
This made him smile, and he was about to reply when another voice answered, "They greet you with praise because no one has ever withstood sword fighting that long with our Jeremy here." William was back from his visit with the nobles. "I think the record is 15 minutes and 7 seconds, and I didn't even make it past 10. To my men, you're an equal now. You proved your worth to them. It doesn't matter that you lost; no one has ever beaten the lad." He gave Jeremy a pat on the back, and strode into a tent with some of his closest companions. I, once again, was dumbfounded.
"You mean, everyone respects me now?"
Jeremy answered, "For the most part, yes. Now they know not to mess with you, and you won't be picked on. I guess I did you a favor." That same grin appeared on his face.
"A favor, eh? Well then, I'll return the favor some other time, and I WILL beat you."
"Strong words, lass. Strong words. Hold to them, and I will grant you anything in the world."
I answered, "You are so full of yourself you think I won't get better and beat you?"
He smiled and looked directly into my eyes, "Nobody has been able to beat me so far. But that's not to say someone can't." He came close to my ear, and whispered, "Though you have to find a weakness in me first."
It was true. Throughout the whole fight I couldn't find his weakness, and it would take a while before I would. But I WOULD find it. "Go tend to those slashes I gave you." he laughed, and walked away.
I smiled with glee in spite of myself. I had proved myself to Wallace's men, and now had their respect. Now I didn't have that problem anymore. My life was definitely getting better by the moment. I walked out of the ring and back into the tent from which I awoke two days ago in. I had to tend to my lip biting wounds that I had not dared speak of. I was a healer, after all. And nobody needed to see my weakness.
I took William's advice, and stayed in bed for another day. I did not want to keep Wallace's men any longer though, so I tried to walk around a bit. When my head started to not hurt, it was then that I decided that I was better. I hadn't ventured outside the tent, so I thought a little stroll would do me some good. Plus, maybe I could find that English bastard if the men hadn't already killed him.
As I exited the tent, I saw for the first time what my world would be like for the years. I observed men practicing sword fights; men eating pots of stew; men drawing there bows and firing arrows to circled targets. All of it fascinated me to no end. As I searched the camp I noticed a tent where two guards stood with weapons. I knew it was the son of a bitch that lied within.
I approached the two young guards, and smiled sweetly. One, a boy around 18 years old, smiled back, while the older one looked away in disgust. I knew probably two thirds of the total men thought I wasn't fit to be there, but I would prove them wrong. The man that had smiled, the one with stunning brown eyes and ruffled brown hair, spoke to me, "Well, are you just going to stand there girly, or do you have a point to make?"
A bit rude. "I demand to enter this tent, providing it is the one that contains the English soldier," I shot back at him.
He looked taken aback, while the older one still looked away. "Well, with an attitude like that, I guess next you'll be wanting me to feed and clothe ye." I did not like being mocked, and the look I must have given him told him my thoughts. For next, he said, "Wallace says no one's to see him. Not until he decides the bastard's fate."
I rolled my eyes. "I just want to see him for a second. I won't DO anything to him," I lied. I had no intention of just 'seeing' this scoundrel. I would rather cut his throat.
"Talk to Wallace, Maura. I follow my orders."
"How do you know my name?" I enquired.
It was his turn to roll his eyes. "Don't be daft, girl. You expect a woman to come into our little group without being talked about? They're already making up stories about ye, bout how your only here cause Wallace has a soft spot, and as soon as a battle comes, you'll tuck your tail between your legs and go home. That's my understanding."
I was angered by his amusing gaze at me, and even more so by what the men thought of me. I would show them all though. I wasn't a quitter. "And do You believe that, after having talked to me?" I asked in a mocking tone.
"I don't know, lass. I'd have to see you battle someone first," he countered.
"Is that an invitation?"
He was surprised by that, and stuttered, "Oh, no, I didn't mean-"
I cut him off. "You wish to fight me and see what I've got. Alright then, if your so keen to do then bring it on, boy." Now he was totally in bewilderment, and I knew I had caught him. He would back down any second, and I would win-
"Alright." Now it was my turn to be taken by surprise. He wasn't the least bit worried. "I challenge you, Maura McColliny, to a battle of wits and strength."
"I accept. Since you already know your opponent's name, I think its my right to learn yours."
"Oh, do you now? Jeremy Bloom, if you must know. When do you intend to have this match? Maybe in a few days, since your injured," he said the word 'injured' as if he didn't believe I was. He was the most arrogant man I met, and I would show him what I was made of.
"Why a few days, when we could do this right now?" I stared him down, and he did the same.
"Fine, I have the time. Douglas, can you man down the fort while I handle this?" He said to the other guard. The man simply nodded. "Alrighty then. Let's see what you've got."
He lead me to where most of the men were practicing with their swords. He went into the center and shouted, "Scottish bitches of Wallace," a laughter rang through the crowd. "I ask your permission to use the ring, since a challenge has been brought to our newest member, Maura McColliny, against me." A bigger laugh followed, with shouts of joy. They were all scoffing at me, but I paid them no mind.
By now an even bigger crowd had arisen, and I begin to sweat with nervousness. What if I lost? I would be the laughing stock of the whole camp, and shamed. Then there was just one alternative: don't lose. I closed my eyes and let out a big breath. I had to concentrate, and get distractions out of my mind.
Someone handed me a sword, and I took it without a thanks. I swung it left and right, twisting my wrist to get a feel for the weight. Once I had it down, and Jeremy was done practicing, we headed towards the middle of the dirt ring. The crowd around us made a circly, and I felt rapped. There was no backing out now.
"Sure your ready for this, lass?" He asked.
"Give me all you got!" I shouted. He grinned, then advanced upon me. He was fast, I had to give him credit there. His blows were low and I had to jump high to avoid my legs being chopped off. I then countered with a straightforward jerk, meant for the shoulder, but he deflected it. I didn't know how to fight when I didn't want to hurt the guy, and it was hard to concentrate on the right places to hit him. It left me slower, and made me defend myself instead of advancing.
This guy was good, much better than most men I knew. I discovered then that I had played into his hands: he had challenged me to something he was extremely good at, and knew I would lose. That made me feel like an idiot, and I lost the aspiration to hit him where it wouldn't hurt him bad; I went at him full force.
He was caught unaware by my sudden outburst, and that gave me the advantage. I swung for the chest, but he did a back flip and landed on his feet, just in time to deflect another of my attacks. This could go on forever. We flew into a rhythm; he advanced, I repelled a blow; I advanced, he flicked it away. Every move I made he matched it, and form all the twisting and twirling we did one could take it as seeing a dance. The shouts of the men had faded after twenty or so minutes, and some had left. Others were awed by our intensity; our unwillingness to call it quits.
Sweat was pouring down my face, and blood dripped from my shoulder, where he had lightly scraped. I had gotten him along the side of his ribs, but I knew it barely touched the skin, though I had seen the cringe his face made when I made the slice. He backed out of the middle and stopped for a second, though he still had his sword raised. I knew he was tired, but he knew I was tired also. I didn't know how long I could play this game, and my head was throbbing fiercely.
With a burst of energy I advanced on him, my voice crying out. My sword hit his, and our chests were almost pressed together. I saw a hint of a smile in his voice, then all of a sudden I felt him try to push me out of his hold. I almost lost my balance, but I kept it together. We were both out of breath, but that didn't stop us. He was almost as stubborn as me. Almost. I lashed out again, this time for his legs, and he jumped and did a front lip over my head, I turned around just in time to batter his sword away from my stomach.
But his next move determined the end of the match. He made a high blow, and I blocked it, then faked a low blow, which I tried to block, and shot my sword out of my hand, and kicked me to the ground. I knew defeat when I saw it, though I was maddened beyond power that he had humiliated me. He sighed in triumph as he let his hand holding the sword fall to the ground. Cheers went up, as I tried to fend off tears that slowly crept their way to my eyes. He smiled warmly at me, and offered his hand to help me up. I denied it, and and did a kip up to land on my feet.
I thought that match had clenched my status as an outcast, but once again I was proved wrong as scores of people came up and congratulated me on a well fought match. I was utterly confused, though I thanked everyone that came up to me. Finally Jeremy reached me and held out his hand again. This time I clasped it, and he shook it fiercely with a sense of admiration in me.
"You fought well. I honestly didn't know you could take that much punishment, but you never quit. Your as brave a fighter as any man here, and as skilled. I owe you an apology for judging you too quickly, lass."
I decided this would be the best time to ask, "Why are you apologizing? I lost. Your men should be laughing at me from here to England."
This made him smile, and he was about to reply when another voice answered, "They greet you with praise because no one has ever withstood sword fighting that long with our Jeremy here." William was back from his visit with the nobles. "I think the record is 15 minutes and 7 seconds, and I didn't even make it past 10. To my men, you're an equal now. You proved your worth to them. It doesn't matter that you lost; no one has ever beaten the lad." He gave Jeremy a pat on the back, and strode into a tent with some of his closest companions. I, once again, was dumbfounded.
"You mean, everyone respects me now?"
Jeremy answered, "For the most part, yes. Now they know not to mess with you, and you won't be picked on. I guess I did you a favor." That same grin appeared on his face.
"A favor, eh? Well then, I'll return the favor some other time, and I WILL beat you."
"Strong words, lass. Strong words. Hold to them, and I will grant you anything in the world."
I answered, "You are so full of yourself you think I won't get better and beat you?"
He smiled and looked directly into my eyes, "Nobody has been able to beat me so far. But that's not to say someone can't." He came close to my ear, and whispered, "Though you have to find a weakness in me first."
It was true. Throughout the whole fight I couldn't find his weakness, and it would take a while before I would. But I WOULD find it. "Go tend to those slashes I gave you." he laughed, and walked away.
I smiled with glee in spite of myself. I had proved myself to Wallace's men, and now had their respect. Now I didn't have that problem anymore. My life was definitely getting better by the moment. I walked out of the ring and back into the tent from which I awoke two days ago in. I had to tend to my lip biting wounds that I had not dared speak of. I was a healer, after all. And nobody needed to see my weakness.